


Rise Up

by SansyG12



Series: School's In [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Archangels, Flowers, Gen, Humans, Slight John/Alex if you squint, Slightly based off of Hamilton - Miranda, perseverance, tyranny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24606601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyG12/pseuds/SansyG12
Summary: This was a work for school.-------------------------------John is an angel who hates his king's tyranny.So why not steal the castle plans and recruit a human to help him kill the king?Alex was just in the right place at the right time.
Series: School's In [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778845





	Rise Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a school project. There is a word limit of 800 so that sucks. But this exists here for now so don't pull out your revolvers and shoot before 7.

He pushed the door open stepping inside and heading to his favorite stool.

“Could I get a pint of Sam Adams?” Alex called to the bartender, taking out a silver.

The bartender nodded and got to work.

Alex saw something out of the corner of his eye and turned, another patron. He had a pint of Sam Adams too, but only nursed it. His curly chestnut hair and hazel eyes made the freckles like thousands of stars stand out.

Alex couldn’t help but strike up a conversation.

“Hey there, I’m Alexander Warren. What’s your name?” He asked, putting on a friendly smile.

The other looked at him in confusion, “Are you talking to me?” He questioned.

“Does it look like I’m not?” Alexander asked cheekily.

“Oh. My name is John. John Harrison.” The stranger answered.

“Alexander Warren,” He said pointing at himself.

“Are you interested in overthrowing the King?” John blurted out, making Alex blink in surprise.

Nod.

“This needs to stay a secret.” John requested.

Soon they were gathering around a table with a map on it.

* * *

Alexander scaled the cliff, focused on the window ahead of him. It was hard to breathe, but he continued. The sheer cliff was daunting, but he could not stop. If he stopped, he might never start again. He could hear the angels above him, and he was ready.

He hauled himself in, gasping in relief for the warm oxygen.

“Halt. Who goes there?”

Alex was ready.

“I’m Alexander Warren, and I’m here to kill a king.”

And then he was swarmed.

He did not think this through.

He was running through the halls, dodging spears of light. His eyes scanned the walls for a hiding place.

He ducked behind a curtain, the numerous angelic guards flying past him.

He ran into a room, finding the throne room and his friend.

John was bleeding, blood running down his sky-blue wings.

And holding John by the throat, was King George himself.

“Tut-tut Harrison. Did you really think a meager Angel, stood a chance against me?” The King drawled, sarcasm leaking from his voice like venom.

John could only cough.

“Let him go!”

The archangel turned, seeing Alex standing there.

“A human? Harrison, you are pathetic.” The King scoffed, throwing the angel to the ground.

Alex growled, stomping forward.

“You have no right to speak to my friend that way.” The human snarled.

“No right? I am the King. I have more rights than you human.”

Alex quickly thrust the blade in his hand into the heart of the archangel, surprising the King. Alex was right in front of him, noses only centimeters apart.

The King chuckled darkly, and with his last dying breath said,

“Don’t you know what happens when an Archangel dies?”

And then there was light.

* * *

The duo walked out of the castle, battered but alive.

“I still wish he didn’t tear my wings to shreds,” John grumbled, wincing at the pain of every step.

Alex laughed, the duo making it to a large field.

“Hey… You mind giving this to my dad. His name’s George Warren.” Alex suddenly said, holding a rolled-up parchment to John.

“Yeah sure, but why aren’t you giving it to him yourself?” John asked, taking the parchment.

“Because I’m kinda dying right now.”

And with that, Alex collapsed on the field.

“Alex!”

John knelt beside his friend, ignoring his injuries.

Alex took off his trench coat, revealing parts of his white shirt burned and blackened, the skin underneath bleeding.

“How did you make it this far?!” John asked, staring at the injuries with wide eyes.

“I walked?” Alex joked; his voice steady. His eyes shone with pain.

The reason John was not using his abilities to heal his friend was that he could not. Sky angels cannot heal.

Alex looked at his wounds like they were the worst thing in the world, before looking at John sadly.

Slowly, the flames that lit Alexander’s violet-blue eyes died out.

Alexander Warren was no more.

John lay him to rest in that field. John flew through the clouds, his wings blowing the clouds away when the rain started to turn the ground to sludge. The cycle went on.

Then the first flower grew. John paid no mind to the small bud, continuing the cycle. Then another one. And soon thousands covered the field. Violet-blue. Obsidian black. Navy blue. Pearly white. Chocolate brown. So many colors covered the field.

So, he dug.

John moved the Earth to find Alex. Laying there, perfectly preserved from the ground. Except, he lay surrounded by flowers. White and blue. His expression was peaceful.

What happens when an archangel dies?

Where do all the flower fields come from?

They all hold the same answer.

Flowers bloom where heroes lay.


End file.
